Flinch
by Angst Is My Middle Name
Summary: "Her heart was racing. This couldn't be. She had worked so hard to make this go away, yet here it was again, rearing its ugly head, viciously alerting her to its presence, reminding her it would never go away fully. Her chest constricted. It was hard to breathe." Part 3 of The Chaplain's Log. Warnings inside.


_**Here's another installment of 'The Chaplain's Log', this one featuring the one and only Jim Kirk. Sorry there hasn't been much updating, but the last bit of grad school was crazy. This is my celebration.**_

_**Warnings: depictions of homicide and some strong language.**_

* * *

"Fred! Did you hear _anything_ I just said?" Kahliya huffed

Freddey blinked and looked to her roommate. Kahliya stood staring at her, one hand resting indignantly on her hip, the other pulling her foot up as she stretched.

"Sorry, Liya… you know me," Freddey replied, "Always daydreaming. What'd you say again?"

"Yeah, and you're daydreaming more than usual lately. I _said_ I'm going for a run, training for that Academy half-marathon, and I'm not sure when I'll be back. You gonna be okay?"

"Course I will. Why?"

Kahliya shrugged, saying, "Like I said, you've been out of it lately. I mean, if something's going on, and… well, y'know… I mean, if you wanna talk, I'm here for you, Fred."

A surge of affection rose up in Freddey's chest. She offered her friend a smile and told her, "Thanks, Liya. I really appreciate it. Maybe when you get back from your run."

Kahliya looked like she wanted to say something else but thought better of it. Instead, she simply muttered, "See ya later then," and headed out. Freddey watched her go. _I wish I could talk to you about it._

She somehow thought it would be easier, the tenth anniversary of the Tarsus IV Massacre, the massacre only she and eight other children ultimately survived, nine children out of four thousand people. Sure, the nightmares had dwindled to a few a year and the flashbacks were practically nonexistent, but the ten-year anniversary was sure to produce more coverage than any years previous. The media just loved reminding the public about tragedy. They were always trying to get people to sit around holding hands and singing 'Kumbayah' and waving flags. Freddey hated it. At least no one knew about the Nine's survival. The story of a group of children surviving the massacre and living in the woods for two months would have every news outlet salivating and begging for more. She had never been more grateful for Pike burying the information under a mountain of red tape the size of Olympus Mons, one that no one would (hopefully) ever even think to dig through.

Freddey let out a huff and reached for her comm, shooting off a message to her friend Jim: _You home?_

His response was quick: _Yeah… wanna come over?_

_ Yeah… now?_

_ I'll be here. _

_ Be there in 15._

Freddey didn't bother dressing up; she never had to impress Jim. She did bring a small overnight bag just in case. She had gone to stay with him earlier in the year, at the end of the spring semester, around the time of the anniversary of the famine beginning, as he was one of the other survivors. They were incredibly close, Freddey and Jim, the bond born from sharing that horrific experience, like comrades in battle. They could always rely on each other during the hard anniversaries, times when the memories became difficult to handle alone. She didn't know if he told his roommate, a doctor named Leonard McCoy, about Tarsus IV. She never told Kahliya.

Jim smiled warmly as he opened the door to his and Leonard's room, saying, "Bones won't be back 'til late. Got shifts at the hospital. See you came prepared."

"Oh, I'm always prepared, just like a good little cadet."

He gave a huff of a laugh and let her in. It was a typical guy's room. There were clothes and books and empty food containers littering the floor, and both beds were rumpled and unmade (not that Freddey's ever was). It actually reminded her of her own dorm room… minus the food wrappers. (Kahliya always kept her side neat and tidy.)

"You're, like, super gross, did you know that?" she joked.

He laughed a bit louder this time and stepped up to wrap her in a big hug she eagerly returned. Jim was just like another big brother; he made her feel safe, protected, loved.

"The usual?" he asked, heading over to the kitchen while she got situated on his bed.

"Of course. If it ain't broke, don't fix it," she replied.

So they spent the majority of their afternoon, evening, and night watching classic movies and munching on popcorn and pizza all through _Metropolis_, _The Public Enemy_, the silent _Ben-Hur_, and _Becket_. Freddey curled up against Jim's side as they started _Casablanca_ at one in the morning, head lolling against his chest, eyelids heavy.

"Ten years is a long time, Jimmy," she murmured, "I can't believe it."

"I know. I've already seen the itinerary for the Starfleet remembrance ceremony," he replied, "Lots of politicians and historians and admirals… not one survivor. They probably tried to get someone who was there and realized none of us wanna talk about it.

Freddey snorted, "Yeah, probably."

She thought back to five years ago. The news outlets had been drooling over a tell-all book by someone who claimed to be a survivor of the Tarsus IV famine. Freddey was only sixteen at that time (and just starting her initial theology degree), and though she didn't recognize the man, she never imagined he was lying. There had been 8,000 people on that colony. It was impossible to remember everyone. After a month or so of publicity, it came out that he was a fraud. While he had indeed lived on Tarsus IV, he left the colony in 2245. The man tried to backpedal and save face by saying he'd never claimed it was a memoir, then called it fiction, then said he had ghostwritten it for someone who was there. It turned out he wasn't even who he said he was. Freddey thought she remembered hearing he'd been arrested for fraud or something like that. Since the famine and massacre, no known survivor of either event has come forward to publically speak about it. She's sure Jim remembered the story; he'd been eighteen at that time.

"I heard they wanna make a documentary about it."

"About what, Jim?"

"Tarsus IV. I heard they wanna make a documentary about what happened, but they can't get any survivors to approve footage or agree to be interviewed."

"Good. We don't need a documentary. Everyone remembers what happened just fine."

They fell silent for a long while, just watching Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman and Claude Rains and Peter Lorre. Freddey settled closer against Jim's warmth, murmuring, "I'm glad we're here, Jimmy."

"Me, too, Effie. Me, too," he replied looking down at her, "You look ready to pass out, sis."

Her lips quirked up in a sleepy smile. Jim told her, "Aw, just go to sleep. I'll be here."

Jim tightened his arm around her shoulder, and she was soon fast asleep, grateful for a dearth of nightmares. Len was there when they woke up in the morning. He said nothing, nor did he do so much as raise an eyebrow at Freddey and Jim curled up in bed. (She's sure he's seen much worse in the morning before. At least she had all her clothes on.) Len just calmly sipped his coffee, reading over a datapad and informing them, "You got a message from CPT Pike. Both of ya."

Leave it to Pike to know they were together. Freddey scrubbed at her eyes and sat up fully, stretching and twisting to relieve some of the knots in her muscles. Behind her, Jim mumbled something about his bodily functions, and she felt the mattress shift as he got up and went to the bathroom. Freddey got to her feet and shuffled over to Len. He gave her a gentle smile, one he rarely let anyone see, and handed over her comm that she'd left on the table. Pike sent both her and Jim an identical message: _Both of you. In my office at 1300. No excuses. Very important matter to discuss._

Freddey blinked at the message. Why would Pike need to speak with both of them at once? The semester had only just started, so it couldn't be classes. Even if it was, he wasn't her advisor. She stifled a yawn, scratching her head. Len looked curious but asked no questions.

She and Jim arrived to Pike's office promptly at 1300, where he told them to sit. Freddey liked Pike's office very much. Pike was a historian at heart, and his office showed it. There were tall bookshelves on every available wall, reaching from floor to ceiling, packed to the gills with antique bound books. Starship models sat on every open surface. Piles of papers and datapads littered the desk and floor in varying sizes and states of disarray. The smell of old books filled the air. Freddey reveled in it.

"Do the two of you know why you're here?" Pike asked.

His face betrayed nothing. Both Freddey and Jim shook their heads. Pike sighed, leaned back in his chair, scrubbed at his face. Freddey did her best to remain expressionless.

"First of all, the admiralty told me to ask you if you would speak at the Academy's Tarsus IV remembrance ceremony. I told them you'd probably say no, but they told me to ask… so pretend I asked and you said no., and be glad they're not ordering you to do it."

Freddey shifted in her seat slightly and heard Jim do the same beside her.

"Now… there's some news I have that's worse than that," Pike explained, his voice low, "They recovered some remains on Tarsus IV and identified them as being from a man called Geoffrey Stolarz. They found him out in the woods, and forensics said it looked like he was beaten to death. The time frame for the remains lines up with the famine, though they believe he was killed after the massacre. I need you two to be honest with me. Do you know anything about this?"

Freddey didn't reply. She couldn't. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. She felt lightheaded and sick and terrified and prayed Pike couldn't see it in her eyes. Jim remained as tight lipped as she was. Pike sighed.

"Look, I wanna help you," he told them, "but if I'm gonna do that, I need honesty from you. I can't help if I don't know what happened or what you know."

Her heart was racing. This couldn't be. She had worked so hard to make this go away, yet here it was again, rearing its ugly head, viciously alerting her to its presence, reminding her it would never go away fully. Her chest constricted. It was hard to breathe. Jim fidgeted in his chair, apparently not wanting to speak but having trouble remaining silent. Pike looked frustrated but remained patient with them, knowing this was hard for them to talk about. Freddey struggled to maintain a neutral façade.

"I don't want to get you in trouble," Pike soothed, "You know I don't. I just… people are looking for answers, and I want to make sure they don't dig deep enough to find you. You're good kids. You don't deserve the shitstorm that would occur should anyone discover you survived the massacre. If you know what happened, _please_ tell me so I can figure out how to tell them."

Freddey saw Jim twitch in her peripheral vision. Pike's eyes were full of affection and tenderness and understanding. Her mind screamed at her, _Just tell him! Look! He won't hurt you! He loves you, and he's not like them. He will help you. He won't abandon you to the wolves. Tell him tell him tell him-_

"It was me," she blurted at last, emotions roiling in her soul.

"Fred, no-"

"I did it," she continued, her voice thick, "I killed Geoffrey Stolarz."

"How?" Pike asked.

"I… I beat him to death with the shovel I used to bury the ones that died."

"Why? Tell me."

Pike's voice was softer, fatherly, his expression open and calm. She felt herself shaking with fear and self-loathing. She clammed up, suddenly unable to speak. Jim shook beside her, for her. He knew. He was the only one she told the night it had happened. He held her while she cried and begged the Mother for forgiveness. She watched through blurring vision as Pike dragged his chair around in front of his desk. He sat very close to them. Freddey jumped when she felt slight pressure on one of her hands and looked down to find Pike gripping it tight in one of his own; he was doing the same to Jim.

"Winifred, James, please," he whispered, pleading, "Tell me what happened so I can help you."

"He threatened the kids," Jim told him, "Fred was just tryin' to make sure we were safe."

"I was… he found me while I was on watch. I always took the shovel with me in case I had to fight off an animal or something and defend myself," she explained quietly, "but I never thought… never thought I'd have to-…"

Pike's grip on her hand tightens, offering silent reassurance.

"He, uh, he came outta nowhere. I was just sittin' there, minding my own business, and he was just there. Dude got this look in his eyes, like he was all excited and whatnot, like he'd gotten Christmas and his birthday all at once. He lunged at me, but I jumped outta the way and grabbed the shovel. Then he started talkin' all crazy, sayin' he was gonna bring me in, me and whoever I was protecting. Said the governor'd reward him real good, give him more rations for him and his family. I mean, I dunno how he knew there were more, but I wasn't about to let him get any of us.

"Stolarz turned around, which I reckon is probably the stupidest thing he'd ever done. He wasn't lookin', so I… I whacked him good with the shovel, knocked him down," she continued, her voice now flat, her face calm, "Didn't knock him out, though. He was tryin' to get back up. I knew I couldn't risk him goin' back to town and tellin' everyone where we were, so I just kept hittin' him 'til I was sure he was dead. I didn't bury him. I figured if he was gonna sell out a bunch of kids to get killed over a little food, he didn't really deserve it."

"I saw her when she came back after it happened, after Shoshannah went out and relieved her on watch," Jim followed, "She just went right into the cave, and I knew somethin' was wrong because she always greeted everyone when she came back, so her not sayin' anything was pretty weird. I followed her in, and she just broke down crying and told me what happened. She was really upset. I told her I woulda done the same thing."

Pike remained silent, just looking at them, still clasping their hands. His face still bore fatherly affection, now tinged with pity and sorrow. It was over a year ago now that CPT Pike came to both of them and offered them the stars, offered them a chance to step out of their parents' shadows, the tragedies of their pasts. They both worked to make him proud, and in return he gave them the sort of fatherly love and guidance they'd never had when Jim's father was dead the day he was born and Freddey's didn't give a damn about her. Freddey's parents had only cared as far as was necessary, and when their lives and positions were in danger, they just handed her over to die.

Jim sniffed loudly beside her, and she knew he was crying, too. Pike gave them each a soft smile before releasing their hands and pulling them in for an embrace. Freddey squeezed back hard, digging her fingers into each man's back, feeling safe in their arms, loving one as a sister and the other as a daughter. Pike pulled away after a long moment and settled a hand on each of their faces, cupping their chins.

"Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me the truth," he said softly, "Don't worry. I'll make sure everything is taken care of."

"Just like always?" they asked in unison.

Pike huffed out a laugh and agreed, "Just like always," gazing on them like a proud father. Freddey couldn't understand why he looked so proud when she'd just told him she once killed a man. He seemed to sense her confusion and focused his attention on her, though he didn't let go of Jim.

"I know what you did was hard," he told her gently, "Believe me, I know. No one in a position like that ever really wants to kill, and they don't enjoy it. It's always a last resort, and it's always to protect others. I've had to do it plenty of times, and it doesn't get any easier, not even when other lives are stake. If it's ever easy… well, there's a big problem. I'm proud of you for telling me what you did. Not many people would be able to admit it to themselves, let alone another person."

He turned to Jim next, saying, "And you. I'm proud of you for standing by her. I can't imagine helping her keep that secret for so long. You're a good kid. You're both good kids, and you're very lucky to have each other. Don't forget that. You need each other."

Freddey smiled up at him fondly. Yes, Jim needed that reassurance, needed to be told his suffering was not in vain, that he wasn't the perpetual fuckup everyone always said he was. Pike was good at that. The older man quickly wiped some tears from their cheeks, and his voice went a bit gruff as he told them, "Now, get outta my office. I got work to do."

Freddey and Jim both mumbled, "Yessir," gave him sloppy salutes, and went back to Jim's room. In the safety of the room, Freddey reached out and grabbed Jim's hand, murmuring, "Thank you, Jim."

"For what?"

"For being there for me, for helping me."

"That's what friends are for, Fred. I… when you told me what happened that day, you asked me to help you carry your burden. Like, you didn't use the words, but that's what you telling me meant, and I did that willingly. I did it because I care about you, because you're my friend. I wanted to help you… so I did."

"Yeah, but you didn't have to… so thanks."

Jim swooped down to kiss her on the cheek and smiled, "What are friends for?"

She sighed happily and asked, "Wanna do another movie marathon? Maybe we can invite our roommates to join the fun."

"Yeah… yeah, I think Kahliya and Bones would like that. Better be sure they don't start talkin' shop, or they may never shut up!"

Freddey laughed. Leave it to Jim to lighten the mood. They would need that skill of his later that night when the spilled everything to Len and Kahliya.

_We each need to make peace with our own memories. _

_We have all done things that make us flinch._

_~Surya Das_


End file.
